


Someone Help Me

by Mrs_SimonTam_PHD



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [17]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:14:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23386447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD/pseuds/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD
Summary: Derek Morgan is attacked in the worst possible way.
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1595023
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	Someone Help Me

**Author's Note:**

> Another Bad Things Happen Bingo Square!! And it's a bingo!!
> 
> Square: Attempted Rape

Derek Morgan knew that he was being followed from the moment after his tail started to follow him. 

The tail was good, too. He was far enough back so as not to arouse the suspicion that he was following someone, but close enough that he wouldn’t lose Derek. 

And Derek tried to lose him. God, did he try. He used every technique that Chicago PD, ATF, and FBI had taught him, as well as a few tricks he learned being a hoodlum on the streets that he was for a short time. 

And yet, he never managed to loose the tail. The tail stuck to him like glue. 

Discreetly, he put the location on on his phone and tried to use the rush hour madness of the streets to duck down a deserted alleyway that hardly anyone ever went down, hoping to have lost his tail. Derek’s hand strayed towards his handgun, just in case the situation turned ugly. 

“Oh no, hands away from your peashooter, beefcake,” his tail said, suddenly a lot closer.  _ Dammit.  _

However, Derek wasn’t sure how a Glock 19 is classified as a ‘peashooter’, but when he turned and saw his tail’s .50 Desert Eagle pointed at him, he knew exactly what he meant. “There's no need for that,” he said in a soft tone, the one he’s been trained to use for hostage situations. 

“Yeah, okay,” the tail snorted. 

Derek looked over his… whatever. The unsub. He was about five-ten, maybe five-eleven, about one eighty, Caucasian, blond hair, hazel eyes. He was wearing a grey sweatshirt, blue jeans, and black sneakers. He had some peach fuzz. There was nothing particularly remarkable about him.

Okay, if the roles were reversed, Derek  _ would  _ want and feel that need to have that gun. Hell, he wanted that gun  _ now. _ “Look, I’ll cooperate, but don’t get too familiar with that gun.” 

“Mhm,” the man hummed. “You’re a sly one. Hard to catch.” 

Derek shrugged and gave a half-smile. “Well, you caught me. Now what?” 

“Drop that belt,” the unsub ordered. “I ain’t gonna have you try to pull a fast one on me.” 

Okay, that was fair. Derek slowly undid his belt and he carefully lowered it to the gun, making sure that the holster was up. 

“Good, now put your hands against the wall.” 

Derek slowly complied, his mind turning. This unsub was careful. His motive was probably robbery. It was a frisk style mugging. 

“Damn,” the unsub groaned. “Now  _ that’s  _ a sight to see.” Derek felt the gun press against his shoulder as the unsub began to frisk him. It was done in a way that spoke that he had either been frisked before or had done plenty of frisks. It was quick, professional, all of that- up until the unsub grabbed the front of Derek’s crotch. 

“Now, I  _ know  _ that that ain’t another gun in your pocket, but I bet you still shoot straight regardless,” the unsub purred, squeezing. 

Derek swallowed. 

This wasn’t a robbery. 

He was about to be raped. 

The unsub began to undo Derek’s button and zipper on his jeans. Derek remained still, calculating how he was going to get out of this situation. He wasn’t sure how, not with the gun pressing against his shoulder. He knew that he couldn’t fight his way out of it. He also knew that he wasn’t going to be able to talk his way out of it. 

So all he could do for now was pray. Pray that an outside force would stop this horror. It’s a prayer he’s said too many times. 

The unsub shoved his jeans down and reached around to grab Derek’s crotch again. “You’re a thick one,” he purred. “Too bad that I’m the one doing the fucking, hmm? I wouldn’t mind having your cock in me.” 

Derek felt nauseated as the unsub talked. 

“But I think that I’m just going to take your ass,” the unsub continued. “Were you a tight end playing football?” 

Derek didn’t answer, just closed his eyes. His fingers dug into the mortar on the wall. 

“Quiet guy, huh?” the unsub chuckled. “That’s alright. I hope that I can make you scream anyways.” His hand traveled back and grabbed at Derek’s ass. 

Derek flinched and his eyes squeezed even tighter closed.  _ Please, someone, scare him off,  _ he prayed. 

Fortunately, his prayers were answered just as the unsub was beginning to draw his boxers down. 

“Ow! What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Brandon?!” a woman barked suddenly, close by. 

“What did I tell you about maxing out my credit cards, Lynn?” a deeper, more masculine voice replied back. 

The unsub, spooked by the new people, fled, and Derek sagged against the brick. 

“Hey,” the woman- Lynn- was close by his elbow, soft and tender. “Sir? Are you hurt at all?” 

Derek inhaled, then exhaled shakily. “No,” he whispered softly. “I’m not hurt.” 

“Okay, that’s good, let’s get you dressed, we’ll stay with you in case that bastard comes back,” she said soothingly. 

Derek followed the orders after he opened his eyes. Once he was presentable, he looked at his saviors. Lynn was a petite woman; Brandon was taller. Both were slender in built and wearing a corrections officer uniform. “Thank you,” he said softly. 

“Of course,” Brandon said. “We’ll wait with you while you call someone.” 

“There  _ is  _ someone you can call, right?” Lynn asked. 

Derek nodded. There was only one person that he even came close to thinking about calling. He pulled out his phone and dialed Penelope Garcia’s number, with those two strangers keeping an eye on him, even as the tears of shame of nearly being raped started to flow. 

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell


End file.
